Demitasse
by Katraa
Summary: After a year of being partners, Tsuzuki is still learning more about Hisoka every day. Not by words, but through his actions. subtle Tsusoka


**Dedicated:** frontier of darkness  
**I wanted to do something special for my Conductor for Christmas, but didn't have the time to. So I hope this oneshot of sorts is a good enough present. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy this. It's my first time writing for this fandom (been wanting to for a year). Hopefully they're IC... The writing is mostly metaphors and allusions... Anyhow, please leave a review with your thoughts?**

**Demitasse**

The taste of his last drink is on his lips, mingling sweetly with the hot, brown liquid. Melted cream rushes past his lips; pale, soft, abused lips. His gaze, abnormally purple and a façade of purity, shoots out over the scenic park. Long fingers lace under his chin. His eyes shut. His heart stops—is it really a heart anymore, or just a dormant shell of something he once had as a child?

There is something wrong with the way Hisoka is standing beneath the Sakura Tree. Something _sinful_ about the way the blonde-haired boy is gently caressing the bark. Something _desirable_ in the way the wind rushes against his horribly pale skin, causing splotches of discoloration to form without warning. There is something wrong in the way Hisoka is _breathing_.

With little regard to the delectable, enticing demitasse in his hands, Tsuzuki pushes up from the park bench. His gaze, one of a learned man, settles once more on the teenager a few hundred yards away. He watches as Hisoka's face disappears from view, coming to hide in his hands. Tsuzuki does not connect anything at first, and thinks that Hisoka is merely inspecting his hands for sap or anything else. Or perhaps he is secretly on a case.

Hisoka is an enigma, he'll give him that.

It isn't until very faint trails of silver slither down Hisoka's face, between his fingers, down his arms, that Tsuzuki realizes what is obscure. As Hisoka leans back against the tree, slumping down to the ground, Tsuzuki realizes how bad of an idea this was. As Hisoka's bright green eyes dull, Tsuzuki realizes this is anything but normal, but instead sacramental.

" 'soka," Tsuzuki whispers, hand reaching out into the stiff air. His voice falls on deaf ears as a frown takes form on his face, bringing gloom to the immediate area.

He knows Hisoka can't hear him, knows not to intrude on his year-long partner. He knows that Hisoka is a safe—an enigma. He knows better than to decode him, than to wear down the walls around him. He knows that Hisoka can handle it all on his own, _has been_. But he also knows that Hisoka is lonely. So dreadfully lonely. If he wasn't, then he wouldn't have saved _him_ from the scorching flames at Kyoto. Wouldn't have risked his own afterlife.

Tsuzuki steps closer, wind tickling his face and brown bangs. Hisoka's eyes are shut now, the tears gone. Tsuzuki wonders, briefly, if they were ever there at all. He's only seen his own partner cry once, and he questions if anything he had just seen actually happened.

Hisoka's hand drifts against the soft earth beside him, collecting a few petals from the ground. His eyes, still shut, twitch beneath pale eyelids. He murmurs something inaudibly and crunches the fallen petals in his hands.

Tsuzuki doubts this is the first time Hisoka has done this.

He hates seeing Hisoka like this.

Hates that he can't be everything that Hisoka esteems him to be—how can he? He was never meant to exist.

Tsuzuki meanders silently across the small stretch of land between them and pauses, a foot away. His gaze washes over Hisoka—reassuring, maternal, hopeful, _helpful_.

As Hisoka's eyes open, lips parting to quip at the older man, he falters. In between Tsuzuki's fingers is a European flower, at full bloom. Hisoka blinks, face turning a faint red to match the petals around him. He stares for a long while before reaching out to accept the offered flower.

As he awkwardly, almost timidly, brings it to his nose, his eyes shut. The aroma of the sweet briar drowns him, and he doesn't even notice Tsuzuki sitting beside him, repeating his actions of a few moments prior. He won't have to deal with this by himself anymore.

You're not alone anymore, Hisoka. You're never alone.


End file.
